Adored by a Brooklyn Drug Lord 3 Page 3

  Urban made a noise somewhere between indignation and disgust. “B is a loyal one, Koi. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her family. If anything, she would fuck with him just to give me the upper hand.”

  “Not if this E person made her a deal,” I cut in. The silence gave me the confidence to continue. “B wanted her husband dead. E could’ve told her that in exchange for her flipping on you, he would kill her husband. Judging by the condition he was in when he called me, she went for it. He used his other bitch to make shit happen.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “D is mixed up in this. B’s husband said something about waking up in a body bag. I wouldn’t be surprised if he talked her into helping him win over Annette and kidnapping Kelsey. We’re on our way to the funeral home. I need you to keep your line open in case we need any legit help.”

  “You mean—”

  Koi nodded his head although Urban couldn’t see him. “We might need the Feds.”

  Dupont Funeral Home was deserted as we pulled up. A lone hearse was parked in front of the funeral home. Behind it was a car Koi identified as belonging to the owner, Dianne Dupont. The reason why she was let into The Trust was because she was able to get rid of bodies like no other. According to Koi, if you wanted to be successful, you had to learn how to hide your skeletons. Atop the funeral home was a chimney puffing out plumes of smoke. If they had onsite cremation there was a body burning as we approached. Koi asked me to watch his six as he picked the lock to the funeral home door. He had barely jiggled the knob when the door opened.

  “We’re not coming in this way,” he said, backing away from the door. “That’s what he wants. We need the service door.”

  I nudged my head to the side of the building. “I think I saw it over there.”

  As we reached the side door, two cars pulled up. Koi’s backup was present, giving us a little more confidence as we breached the service door. A gust of heat hit us, mixed with the scent of embalming fluid and decaying flesh. I kept my back to the door, moving along with Koi, who had his piece out, ready to rumble. Our first stop was the embalming room. There were apparent signs of a struggle, from the overturned stretchers to vials and machines littering the floor. A small trail of blood led farther down the hallway. The next door was to the crematorium. No one was in sight, but there was a body burning inside of the oven.

  “You turn this off while I go look upstairs,” Koi said, starting farther down the hall toward the stairs leading to the first level.

  I beckoned two of his soldiers to do it. “Nah, I’m coming with you.”

  “Quill—”

  “There’s at least two of them. You can’t take out both with that arm,” I said, referring to Koi’s bandaged shoulder. “I think I heard something. Let me take the lead. I know how to play this.”

  Koi relented, placing his pride aside in the name of us rescuing Kelsey. I took the stairs two at a time, gauging the noises coming from the main level. There was a scuffle happening overhead, the sounds of rustling papers and a woman’s grunts filling the hallway as we hit the landing. From a mirror on the wall I could see a man hiding in one of the viewing rooms, his gun pointed at the entrance door we swore off using. I had taken two steps in his direction when Koi stopped me, motioning for me to head down the hall while he took care of it. Without another argument I was off, creeping toward the office at the end of the hall. From down the hall I heard a thud. Koi handled business as usual. Inside of the office I heard a laugh tinged with a coughing fit. Pushing the door open, I stopped short at the sight in front of me. The woman I recognized as Dianne Dupont sat in a high-backed chair, holding on to her neck as rivulets of blood seeped through her fingers.

  “He played me,” she croaked, licking at the bloody dribble that pooled in the corner of her lips, trickling down her chin. “Made me do his dirty work and thought he was going to run off with that skinny, siddity bitch.”

  I took a tentative step into the office and saw a woman’s body sprawled out on the floor. Tucking my foot underneath her stomach, I flipped her onto her back, her curls falling away from her face. Annette Buchanan. Dianne laughed, blood bubbles popping on her dried lips.

  “He told me we would be together, that Urban would give us everything for the girl and I would have the spot at the top I deserved. You see, I inherited my seat from my father, who was friends with Ulysses. When Malone died I should’ve been next, not some little girl with milk still on her breath.”

  “You can still make this right. Where’s E at?”

  She laughed again. “That’s what you smell burning.”

  “Where’s Kelsey?”

  Dianne pursed her lips. “Do you have any idea how much air is in a casket? Five, six hours’ worth. We buried her…four hours ago. She might’ve woken up by now. She’ll start panicking, using up more air…if she has any sense she’ll calm down. Then she’ll notice this tugging feeling in her chest as she begins to suffocate. Desperation will kick in, and she will do anything for another breath of fresh air, even if it means clawing at the casket until her nails break and bleed. I guess we’ll never find out because you’ll never find her. I made sure of that.”

  Dianne snatched her hand away from her neck, expelling the last bit of blood in her body, spraying it across the wall holding pictures of a family she was either leaving behind or was going to meet soon again. Sheer hate had to have been what was keeping her alive. She keeled over, her face slamming against her desk with a smack. Koi placed a hand on my shoulder, which was his subtle way of letting me know he was aware of where we stood.

  “I already made the call. The Feds are coming.”

  I made an impatient motion toward Dianne. “She’s dead. There’s nothing here for them to see.”

  “No, she said plenty. There’s two ways Dianne would dispose of bodies for us: burning them or burying them in an unmarked grave. She has an alliance with one particular cemetery,” Koi said, giving my shoulder a gentle. “It’s twenty minutes from here—”

  “Meaning we have forty minutes to find Kelsey before…” Koi and I finished the sentence in our heads. I refused to speak that fate into existence. “Let’s move.”

  __________

  Koi tore through traffic with no abandon, earning himself several traffic tickets, beratement from drivers, and as we approached the cemetery, his very own tail by NYPD.

  “PULL OVER!” one of the cop cars urged as we sped down Bushwick Avenue.

  Sirens could be heard in the distance, merging to cut us off before we could cause any more pandemonium. Koi remained focused on getting me to the entrance of the cemetery, which was a few feet away. With a turn of his steering wheel we were on the sidewalk, his honking horn parting the small gathering of pedestrians walking to and fro. Flashing lights grew closer except some of them belonged to unmarked cars. Koi skidded to a stop in front of the gates.

  “Get the fuck out before they surround the car. I’m coming right behind you,” Koi assured me.

  I did as I was told, running out of the car, leaping onto the brick pillar, and hoisting myself over the gate with one fluid swoop. My stitches tugged a hint, but I was immune to the sharp pains, instead focusing on trying to get to Kelsey. I slowed to a stop, glancing at my watch. Exactly forty minutes to kind Kelsey. The graveyard was pitch black, with streetlights lining the path. I knew security had to be around here somewhere, or at least a map.

  “Hey, the other one is right over there!” I heard a voice shout behind me.

  I took off into the darkness, cutting through tombstones as the stomping of boots hitting the fresh pavement filled the air. Taking a deep breath, I placed myself back on the court, recalling how I would play games without taking a single breath. I was a beast in practice as well, earning the title of “The Suicide King,” eating them like they were nothing. My body wasn’t in peak performance shape by any means, but what I learned was that all you needed was the same mental to complete the impossible. I booked it, growing de
eper into the cemetery until the footsteps were no more. They were going to play the listening game, and wait for me to fumble. Stopping in front of a mausoleum, I played the game as well, except this time listening for any other signs of life. In the distance I could’ve sworn I heard a melee coming from the entrance.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, looking at my watch to see that another ten minutes had passed.

  The sound of radios alerted me that the police were near, the beams from their flashlights bouncing off of headstones. I continued my descent, darting straight ahead toward what I could see was an open field. The graves had grown sparse at this point, and it wasn’t until I saw some freshly dug ones did I know I was close. There had to be at least twenty freshly dug graves. I had no time to dig them all up, forcing me to rely on instinct. Whatever grave Kelsey was in would have been exhumed by the caretaker of the facility, and messier than the rest. I eyed each one, looking for any recent tire prints or dirt. Taking calculated steps, I listened for something, anything that would tell me where she was. I had approached a twin plot when I heard it. A faint scream.

  “Kelsey!” I screamed, stopping in my tracks to listen for the direction. “Kelsey KEEP SCREAMING!”

  I thought I was bugging but it heard it again. Screaming. I had taken one step in the direction when I was tackled from behind, hitting the ground, receiving a nose full of dirt. The cops started screaming for me to get up while asking what I was doing in a cemetery this late at night.

  “MY GIRLFRIEND!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “My girlfriend is buried here! We need to get her out the ground now.”

  “Son, we all lose people we love, but desecrating a gravesite is—”

  “She’s ALIVE!”

  The cops stopped fighting me the same time a bang cut through the cold night air. Bang. Bang. Bang. I was freed from the cuffs as the other officer searched for where the banging was coming from. He stopped in front of a fresh grave, dirt sprayed around it, dropping to his knees to feel the dirt.

  “This one is fresh, filled in hours ago,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and beginning to grab handfuls of dirt.

  His partner motioned to the main office in the distance. “I’ll see if I can find security. There have to be shovels around here somewhere…”

  We didn’t have time to wait around for a shovel. Kelsey had ten, fifteen minutes tops before she would run out of air. I dropped to my knees in front of the grave, digging opposite the officer, who was frantically piling dirt onto his jacket and flinging it behind him. The dirt shook as Kelsey banged the lid of the casket. Sharp pains tore through my chest as I continued digging, the stampede coming at us going unnoticed until they were right in front of us. Several FBI agents, NYPD officers, and the officer who went to get a shovel converged on the grave, digging in every possible square inch. The banging became louder, almost deafening as we grew closer to her. We had another foot of dirt, three more scoops of dirt when it stopped. I jumped into the hole, nearly knocking over an agent, and began brushing aside the dirt, searching for the clasps to the lid. I found one, unsnapped it with both of my hands, and pulled with everything I had. A pair of feet lay there, unmoving.

  “Kelsey!” I shouted, climbing into the lower half of the casket and unlatching the top.

  Kelsey lay in the casket, one hand on top of her face, the other on her chest. I dropped to my knees, moving her hands and proceeding to give her mouth-to-mouth. The agents yelled for me to back up, give them some space to get her out of the ground. I refused, pumping her chest and giving her a little shake, urging her to wake up.

  “Come on,” I whispered. “Wake up, Kelsey.”

  A loud gasp filled the air, with Kelsey’s chest inflating as she took a gulp of fresh air. She moaned in confusion, the noise receiving a whoop of relief from overhead. I sat her up, rocking her in my arms, running my hands through her hair as I reminded her that I meant what I said. I loved her and would do anything to make sure she was in my life.

  3

  Kelsey

  The bathroom door closed with a resounding thud. I ran my fingertips along the wooden grooves, taking a deep breath to remind myself of where I was. Every light was on, from the ceiling to the vanity, even the shower lights I rarely used. From the other side of the door I could hear the hushed voices of the women in my family as they cleaned up my bedroom, remaking my bed and getting rid of the dirty clothes I had stripped out of. Returning to my apartment was a dub; there was no way I could ever rest my head there again, not after seeing Briana sprawled out on the floor, bleeding from her neck. Granny’s voice hushing Normani and Nicole, snapped me out of my thoughts.

  “I cannot believe neither one of you told me about this!” she hissed, her diatribe heating my cheeks with shame. “That girl has been through more in the last five years than some people go through in a lifetime. She’s a victim, and had just begun to make progress when she was roped into this foolishness. If she would’ve died tonight…”

  “Gladys—” Normani started.

  “Don’t ‘Gladys’ me. Neither one of you were there when he brought her home, held her in your arms, and promised you would make sure she was never tainted by this underworld. That is my grandchild, and one of my other ones is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and they have no idea whether or not she’s going to wake up,” Granny spat, and I could hear the tremble in her voice. “Coming home to my husband dead, sitting in his chair as he ate breakfast, was the second worst feeling I’ve ever experienced in my life. Would you like to know what the first is? Seeing my grandchild’s face plastered all over the news as missing.”

  I pushed myself off of the door, tip-toeing over to the shower, shivering with each step. The bathroom was frigid, but it made me feel alive at a time where I needed to feel…feel anything other than what I experienced in that casket.

  “Breathe, Kelsey,” I chanted, turning on the shower jets.

  At first the water came out ice cold, jolting me awake. Slowly it turned warm, gliding over my skin and washing away the last few traces of dirt that were left from my shower at the hospital. I grabbed my shampoo from the shelf and began working on my hair, lathering, rinsing, and repeating until it tangled. I let the conditioner soak as I treated my body to the same harsh scrubbing, wiping both tears and water droplets from my eyes, both creating a burning sensation. During my cleanse the steam grew thick, cloying my nose and making me choke. The room dimmed and I was right back in that casket, my head feeling like it was going to explode as I sucked on my last breaths of oxygen. My legs gave out from under me, hitting the wet floor, my chest heaving.

  “No…no…no…” I cried, curling up into the fetal position, rocking back and forth.

  I wasn’t sure how long I spent down there, crying and choking and trying to bring myself back to reality. A burst of cold water emerged from the hot, waking me up long enough to crawl out of the shower. With shaky hands, I slipped into my bathrobe and made a break for the bedroom before I succumbed. I jumped at the sight of Quill sitting at the edge of my bed, hands on his knees, waiting for me. He stood at my appearance, rushing over to me, concern filling his eyes.

  “I’m fine,” I said, ducking out of his reach and making a beeline for my closet.

  Quill scoffed. “Is that why your shower is still on and your hair full of conditioner?”

  “I had some trouble turning it off…”

  “Kelsey—”

  “Quill, I’ve had a long night. Everyone has been asking me a million questions, prodding and poking at me, taking pictures of me; all I want in this room is some peace and quiet. Can I get that!” I snapped, and regretted it instantly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have went off on you, not after everything you’ve done for me…”

  He placed his hands on either side of my arms, and planted a kiss on my forehead. “No need to apologize. I know. I came up here to make sure you were good before I headed out. You already know your pops isn’t letting me stay the night.”

  “Thi
s might be one of those nights where he makes a special exception,” I replied with a smile. “I can’t be alone tonight…”

  “You know what? Why don’t we make a slumber party out of it? I’ll make a pallet on the floor and make a promise to your father to keep the door open,” Quill suggested, taking my hands into his and giving them each a kiss.

  I smiled. “That just might work. You wait here while I ask.”

  Dressing with haste, I took the stairs two at a time, noticing how at ease I was after a dose of Quill. I clung to him as they pulled me from the ground, on the way to the hospital, and refused to let him leave my sight until my father arrived. Daddy was beside himself, and this time he was the one who refused to let me go. A breath I wasn’t aware I was holding came out, making way for the tears. We cried together, and from then on I would never take the love I had for my father for granted. Now there were two men in my life I couldn’t live without.

  “Kelsey!”

  My uncle Koi stood in the foyer with Trish. A relieved Normani stood behind them, her expression somewhere between nervous and strained. I skipped down the rest of the stairs, hugging the couple. On the way home, Quill told me how Koi came through in the end, pinpointing the cemetery I was buried at. Without both of them working overtime I wouldn’t have made it. Any hope I had of making it out alive was dampened the longer I remained buried.

  “We would’ve been here sooner, but I still had some stuff to straighten out with the police. While I was able to get out of being charged with a high-speed chase, I still have a lot of traffic tickets coming my way. That, and a few of my stiches popped,” Koi joked, but I could see the strained expression on his face as we approached the living room where Daddy sat with Granny and Nicole.